


The Night Before

by aliccolo (guti)



Category: Marvel (Comics), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Comedy, Gen, Humor, Implied Drug Use, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:52:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3717577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guti/pseuds/aliccolo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to Doctor Robert.  Bobby attempts to come to terms with the bombshell dropped on him the night before.  Scott notices something amiss in his office and goes berserk.  Remy accidentally reveals one of Bobby's bad habits.  And Rogue is happy, for once.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Night Before

**Author's Note:**

> Another ancient fic from 2008. 8D

Sunlight poured in through the window, painting Bobby's bedroom in a chipper yellow glow. The disaster that was his bedroom seemed warmer, more cozy than it had in the harsh electric light from the night before. Bobby always secretly preferred the feel of his room, and indeed the mansion as a whole, in the tranquil lighting of post-dawn.

Bobby lie peacefully under his still dirty sheet, cocooned, safe, warm. The clock next to his bed was flashing 10:17. Still too tired to figure the time conversion, he shut his eyes and prepared for another few hours of sleep. He couldn't recall exactly what had awakened him. But, no matter. He nuzzled his pillow, sighing just a little as he did.

He prepared to for sleep in his usual way. He imagined his ultimate fantasy coming to life. It started with Hugh Hefner's personal plane making an emergency landing behind the mansion. Dozens of foxy blondes with gigantic tits would swarm the mansion, sweaty and dying for someone to cool them off. Bobby's lips curled into a sleepy smile as he started to drift away.

KNOCK.

In his dreams, three sexy woman were straddling him, their enormous breasts bursting from their bikinis. They had decided to take turns wrestling him in a desperate attempt to escape the sweltering heat. Eventually this turned into an all out orgy.

KNOCK.

"Bobby..." They moaned in unison, ripping off their tops and shedding their bottoms.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Bobby..."

Bobby grinned, watching as the woman pour oil all over themselves. "Yeah, sweet things, show me what you're gonna do to me." Two of them turned to each other, winking. Bobby groaned, watching them explore each other's mouths.

The third batted her big blue eyes, slinking up to Bobby, licking her full, luscious lips. "Come to Daddy, babydoll. I promise it won't hurt."

She opened her mouth, kneeling down before him. Staring up with wide eyes, she sighed, in a deep, familiar, masculine voice, "Bobby, wake up."

Bobby's eyes fluttered open, the women helplessly disappearing from his mind. Grunting, he rolled over, catching sight of Hank and Jean standing at the foot of his bed.

"Oh, hey."

"Get up, Bobby." Jean ordered.

Bobby didn't move, not even batting an eye, "Sorry, toots. No can do. I got 'til two before I'm due for a training session, and I intend of enjoying my morning off."

"Sorry, Drake, Doctor's orders." The blue furred man smiled, hoping to rouse him.

Bobby laughed. "Fuck you, Hank. I am not getting out of bed."

Jean was examining the mayhem surrounding her. Her nose wrinkled in disgust. "Bobby, this place is a fucking wreck. When's the last time you dusted in here? Or cleaned your sheets?"

"Fuck you, Red. There is nothing wrong with my sheets."

Hank approached the bed cautiously, dodging piles of dirty clothes and an empty Doritos bag or two. "Scott's orders, Bobby. He's called for an emergency team meeting in ten minutes."

"Fuck him. I'm not going."

"Yes you are." Hank extended a large paw to pull Bobby up.

"Look, only three things could get be out of bed right now...An attack from Magneto, my bed being on fire, or Hugh Hefner's jet making a surprise visit. And since none of those is happening, I suggest you all give Scott my condolences, cuz I ain't moving."

"I swear, it smells like cheap cigarettes and spunk in here." Bobby and Hank both looked at Jean in horror. Jean flashed a completely innocent look, immediately trying to explain herself, "I'm just saying...It's not like I...I wasn't trying to..what, you don't smell it?"

Hank politely sniffed the air, and, obviously reaching the same conclusion, his face curled in disapproval, "Robert, have you been smoking?"

"What?" Bobby stammered, pulling his faithful sheet tight to his body.

"Robert?"

"I don't smoke."

Hank's frown deepened.

"Fine. I have, on occassion. Just socially." Bobby glared at the intruders.

"Robert, I shouldn't have to explain to you the health consequences of regular tobacco use, but I will..." Hank said sternly. Oh no. Oh Jesus no. Not another anti-smoking lecture. It was either cut him off now, or suffer through the same speech given at least once a month when someone insisted they smelled smoke in the house.

"It wasn't me!"

Jean scoffed, "Bobby, grow up. Lying about it is just going to make it worse." She gave Bobby that same look she'd been giving him for years, the look that yelled superiority, the look that put Bobby in his place. "Besides, who else would be smoking in here? Gambit?" She burst into obnoxious giggles.

Bobby smacked his forehead, pulling the skin on his face down with his palm. He hated them. He hated them all. Every last fucking one.

"Smoking causes cancer, emphysema, horrible coughing, bad breath..."

Bobby swung his legs over the side of the bed, tuning out the world as he tripped over his sheet and staggered for the dresser.

"...not to mention the damage smoke does to the building! It makes paint peel, and you can never get the stench out of fabrics.."

He let the sheet fall to the floor, ignoring Jean's gasp and yelping for him to "cover his shame". Finding no clean pants available, he grabbed a pair of blue sweats off the floor, casually yanking them on.

"...and it's bad enough I have to constantly lecture Gambit and Wolverine about the tolls of smoking, but now I have to explain this to you? Bobby, I thought you knew better. As your physician, I am very disappointed that you've chosen to pursue such risky behavior."

"Can it, Blue." Bobby snapped, wandering into the hall. His teammates quickly followed him.

"Scott's office in five. Don't be late." Jean said, as Bobby made a beeline for the kitchen, flipping her off.

"Fuck you," He muttered, rumaging through the fridge for anything appetizing. He'd have to settle for cereal...nothing looked good. He poured a small bowl of Froot Loops and milk, and maowed as quickly as he could. After all, he was already awake, might as well make it to the meeting on time.

The events of the previous evening--or morning, whichever--were still freshly emblazoned in his mind. Truth be told, he was a little unsettled by the whole situation. Like, did he really pleasure himself to Wolverine fellating Gambit? That was sooo not his style. For starters, neither of them had tits. His masturbation fodder was almost exclusively female. Almost.

Bobby did not enjoy watching men having sexual relations with other men. He'd watched enough gay porn to know that that sort of thing just didn't strike his fancy. But he couldn't shake the uncomfortable thoughts that danced endlessly around in his head. He'd watched two guys he thought he'd had figured pretty well in an extremely intimate, extremely sweaty, extremely fucking arousing moment together. And he liked it. The thought horrified him.

Then, of course, there was the confessions of love he'd been witness to. God dammit. He was absolutely sure that this wasn't going to end well. Sure, things would be fine for Gambit and Wolverine, but not for Bobby. According to Gambit, Bobby was the only one in the house aware of their late night sausage fests. And, while it went against his nature not to spill the beans, Bobby was sure he'd be murdered brutally if he broke confidence with the other men. Bobby didn't particularly consider either of the two to be his friends. Yeah, he and Wolvie were cool, generally speaking. He figured the Canadian would have his back, if he ever needed him. But the Cajun? Bobby could barely tolerate the guy. Everything about Gambit annoyed him. His womanizing façade, his horribly exaggerated accent, his swarthy charm, his constant bullshittery. He hated it all. But especially the fact that he was sure Gambit could kill him and not bat and eye.

Nope, he would be no match for the rabid Wolverine and the Ragin' Cajun, should he opt to betray their comings and goings. Bobby giggled at his play on words.

Scott's office was uncharacteristically dark, curtains drawn, just the lamp on his desk lighting the room. Bobby forced himself not to think about the acts committed in there just hours before.

"Mornin', sugah."

Bobby snapped back into reality. Rogue smiled at him with warm, welcoming eyes, scooting over on the couch to allow Bobby to sit next to her. Bobby noted that she was now practically sitting in Gambit's lap. Apparently the two were still an item, in spite of it all. Bobby frowned. Remy looked over his dark sunglasses at him, saying nothing. The two men's eyes met for a split second as Bobby slid down into the vacant seat. "Hey. Did I miss anything?"

"Naw, we're still waiting on Logan. Seems no one knows where he is..." Rogue yawned.

"No one knows where he is?" Bobby repeated, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. He ignored the annoyed looks.

Rogue giggled, "'S what Ah said. Guess he wasn't in his room this morning, and no one knows where he went."

"He wasn't in his room."

Rogue fluffed her hair casually, "Remy says he saw him last night, but nobody's seen him since. Ah wonder where he could be..."

"Remy saw him."

"Ah know, Ah just said that. Jeez, Remy, what's with this guy? All he does is repeat everything Ah say..."

Bobby and Remy's eyes met again. Remy's narrowed as he slid a hand on Rogue's waist. "Dunno chere. Mebbe Iceman's just testing de waters...wanna see how much he can say befo' someone beat de tar outta him."

Great. This was going just swimmingly. The awkwardness hung heavy in the air. Bobby was tempted to just flat out ask where Wolverine was. He knew Gambit knew. Bobby suspected Logan was simply hiding in the Cajun's room, ignoring Scott's summons. He and Remy stared at each other, daring the other to talk.

"A-hem."

Scott crossed his arms, perched threateningly on edge of his desk. Bobby and Remy both glowered at one another before focusing on the team leader.

"You're probably all wondering why I have called this emergency meeting. Well, it's simple. Someone has done something that has royally pissed me off. And no one is leaving this room until I find out which of you is responsible."

Oh no. This couldn't be good. Despite Scott's attempts to appear in control of his obvious anger, here was no mistaking it oozing from him. Even with his eyes masked by scarlet colored glasses, the man was clearly about to go off the hook.

"What is it, Scott?" Jean looked extremely concerned. Bobby caught similar expressions from Ororo and Hank.

"Someone has defiled my personal space." Scott squeaked. Oh no. This was very, very bad. Scott Summers didn't squeak unless hell was about to break loose.

"What happened?" Rogue stiffened, sliding off Remy's lap.

In a sudden graceful movement, Scott was at the window, drawing open the curtains to reveal exactly what had enraged him. There, plastered on the glass in sweat, plain for everyone to see, was the perfect impression of a naked ass.

"An assprint?" Warren gasped.

"Oh heavens!" Betsy whispered, a microscopic smile gracing her face for just a second.

Bobby couldn't help it. He'd tried to mask it as a cough. He really did. But it was soon apparent that he was in an uncontrollable fit of laughter. He couldn't stop the tears rolling down his face as he buried his head in his hands. He somehow managed to choke out an obligatory, "Oh my God."

"This isn't funny!" Scott barked, attention focused on Bobby.

"What a low, thoughtless act." Hank scorned.

"Who would do such a thing?" Ororo wondered, wringing her hands.

Bobby opened his mouth to reply, before a fast hand covered his lips. He was instantly on the receiving end of a patented Remy LeBeau death stare.

"What a nasty thing to do to a window." Rogue added. "Huh, Remy?"

The Cajun was leaning over Rogue, forcefully keeping Bobby quiet. He dropped his focus from his potential victim, hand still clamped over Bobby's mouth. "Uh, yeah. Dat po' defenseless window."

"I know!" Scott said, sounding just slightly insane. "I was just thinking that! Who does that to a window?"

Bobby started laughing again.

"Best stop laughin' Drake, 'fore I pop you in da jaw." Remy hissed, before noticing the group's attention was on him. "I mean, defacin' Scott's window like dat? Bobby, how could you?"

Bobby's eyes narrowed. With that simple statement, that Louisiana trash had declared war. He was a millisecond away from biting Gambit's finger when a familiar voice interupted the scene.

"Hey. What'd I miss?"

Scott's head whipped up to catch Logan stomping into the office. "Thank goodness you're here, Logan. Look! Look at this!" In a frenzy, he pointed at the assprint. "Someone did this to my window!"

Logan almost cracked a smile.

"Gambit were jus' sayin' how awful it is dat Bobby would do such a t'ing to po' Scotty's po' window." Remy gave Logan a desperate look, hoping the Canadian would play along.

"He did what now?" Logan scratched his head, feigning confusion.

Remy growled, swearing under his breath. "Ain't it jus' a shame dat Bobby would do dat?" He gestured with his chin for Logan to follow his lead.

"Uhhummuhughughhmummm." Bobby cursed into Gambit's palm.

"You did this, Bobby?" Hank shook his head in disapproval. "First the cigarettes, now this tomfoolery? I thought you were mature enough to know better. I'm sad to learn I was mistaken..."

"Umhunnnnghummmnughuh." Bobby tried to speak. Gambit's grip didn't budge.

"Bobby smokes?" Rogue looked shocked.

Logan snorted. "Bobby don't smoke cigarettes."

"Ughumnunnnmughunuhmun."

Betsy wondered aloud, "How long have you been keeping this from us?"

"Look, I'm pretty sure I'd know if Bobby Drake was a smoker." Warren answered curtly.

"You don' know dat." Remy smirked.

"His room reeks of it." Jean huffed. "It smells like a prison in there."

"Huggunumunmghumughghhuh." Bobby tried to wiggle away, but Remy was stronger. The Cajun held him in place, his mouth twitching in anger.

"Hush up." Gambit glared.

"A prison?" Warren's eyebrows raised.

"Yes. It's smells like splooge and cigarettes."

"Gross." Betsy groaned.

"You sicken me." Scott looked disgusted.

"Ah really didn't know Bobby smoked." Rogue mused again.

"He doesn't." Logan repeated. "'Least not on a regular basis."

"Then explain the stench, Logan." Jean dared him. "I've been in his room. There is no mistaking it."

"Hunnughhummmunughuguhun."

"I've smelled tobacco on him twice. Once was last Thanksgiving. And the other was this morning."

"So he smoked today?" Hank asked.

"Earlier. 'Round two or so."

"How do you know?" Warren raised an eyebrow.

Logan shrugged, not really admitting anything, "Saw him in the hall a little after that...he smelled like Cajun's smokes. Those two musta smoked last night."

"What?" Remy squawked. He shot Logan a look that screamed betrayal. Logan returned it with a playful grin and a quick shrug.

Rogue looked disappointed, "Remy, did you give Bobby a cigarette?"

"Uh--"

"You peer pressured him into it, didn't you?" Hank demanded.

"Non, I--"

Ororo added, "It's a filthy, dirty habit, Brother. How sad that you would pressure poor Bobby into smoking."

"Uhnn-huhnnn." Bobby nodded, his eyes looking somewhat amused.

Jean bit her lip, looking unsettled. "Wait a second here. If Gambit gave Bobby a cigarette, and Bobby doesn't usually smoke, explain to me why his room smells so bad. I mean, one cigarette doesn't do that much smoke damage. There is some serious, chronic smoke embedded in the fabrics."

"Emphasis on de word 'chronic'." Remy blurted before realizing what he'd done.

Panic swept Bobby's face. He frantically tried to free himself from the Cajun's clutches.

"What is that suppose to mean?" Jean's brow furrowed.

"That ain't tobacco smoke, Jeanie." Logan said simply, silently pulling Remy's arm away from Bobby. Bobby sprung up from the sofa, backing towards the door.

Scott and Hank both gasped. Ororo stood still, hands on hips in obvious disdain. Rogue and Betsy both stifled a giggle.

Jean was quiet a moment, as if unsure of a kosher response. "You're saying then, that Bobby smokes something else."

"Stoner." Warren snickered.

Bobby froze in the doorway. "What the fuck, LeBeau!"

Remy's snapped his head back, "Me?"

"Anyone else here go by that name, asshole? What the fuck is your problem?"

"I didn' do nothin'." The thief insisted.

"Fuck you! You had me all set to cover for your ass --literally, I might add-- before you start sharing shit. What I do in my spare time is no one else's business! Got it? If I wanna smoke a joint every now and then I fucking will. You stupid assholes all wander around with your heads up your asses in total shock that Bobby Drake might like to get high. At least I have that as an excuse!"

"What dat s'pposed to mean, homme?" Remy stood. Bobby circled back from the door. There was no way he'd be the one to run away.

"'Dat' means I can account for any loss of brain function I may experience. You morons don't have that luxury. Especially you, LeBeau. You are as dumb as a sack of shit. After last night you'd think I could at least assume you wouldn't rat me out for my secrets, since I'm now in on yours. But, since we're airing dirty laundry, maybe it's time for a taste of your own medicine."

"Try it." Remy carefully reached into his pocket, standing in an offensive posture. Bobby, not wanting to back down, played a bold move, and stood his ground. He was ready to Ice up in a second, should the other man try anything stupid.

"Enough gentlemen, this ends right now."

All attention focused behind Bobby, to a very unhappy looking Charles Xavier. Bobby winced a little as the older man made himself at home in the office.

"Professor! Look what Bobby did to my window!" Scott pointed to the assprint. Charles ignored him, instead he maintained a fixed gaze on the others. Scott resorted to whining. "Look over here! Look, Professor! You aren't looking! Look!"

Charles cleared his throat, eyeing each and every one of the X-Men. His frown deepened. "I'll have you know I was on an important business call when Jean called me in here. What seems to be the problem?"

"My window! Look at it!" Scott wailed, still pointing.

The Professor turned quickly, giving a sharp, silencing look. "Honest to fucking God, Scott. Shut up about your damned window."

The gasps were audible.

"But Bobby--"

"It wasn't Bobby." Charles replied, the tone is his voice was slightly less threatening.

Bobby let himself look a little smug. He stole a quick peek at Gambit's reaction, noting what could perhaps be called nervousness paying a visit to the thief's features.

"Who was it, Professor?" Ororo asked bravely.

Charles paused before answering, as if considering the potential aftermath of any miscalculated disclosures. "What the hell does it matter? Just get some Windex and be done with it."

"But, it's the principle of it--"

"Scott, do everyone a favor and find a decent therapist. Your head is a mess and you're acting like a lunatic. Glass gets dirty all the time. You're totally over-analyzing this." Charles started back for the door, ignoring the snickers and giggles. "Go take a bubble bath or something, for God's sake."

Scott stammered a moment before going silent.

Charles stopped in the doorway, turning back, his face drawn down again. "And, I shouldn't have to remind you all that there is no fighting in my house. We're all adults here, I shouldn't have to break up arguments. Act reasonably, all of you. The next person I warn will be the last, understood?"

The group nodded. "Yes Professor."

"Good. And Robert, no illegal drugs in the mansion. This is a school, dammit!" The Professor exited into the hall, calling back, "That goes for you all. Just say no!"

The room was silent. Everyone was still and quiet, just for a moment, until the reality of what had just occurred sank in.

"Did the Professor just order you to take a bubble bath?" Warren choked out a laugh. Soon, everyone, even Bobby, was laughing.

After a few long minutes, the group dispersed. Hank and Ororo volunteered to wash Scott's window while Jean drew him a piping hot bath. Bobby took the opportunity to race back to his room and lock the door. He still had a few hours before he was due in the Danger Room. He wasn't about to waste that precious time downstairs with those jerks. He'd get his revenge, yes, and it would be served just the way he liked it...cold.

He lie on his back, studying the ceiling, imagining Hef's pussy plane landing out back. He sighed. Someday, ladies. Someday. He drew in a long, deep breath, catching for the first time what Jean had so loudly-and rudely-insisted on before. His room reeked of sweat, smoke, and sex. Ok, not so much sex as just giz. But, he had to admit, the smell was present. He wrinkled his nose, promising himself he'd do all of his laundry after he took a nice, long nap.

So, there he lie, eyes slowly shutting, breathing even and steady, arm draped snuggly over his eyes to block out the unwanted glow from the window. Seconds from sleep, a soft rap on his door broke his concentration.

"Who is it?" He mumbled.

"Hey sugah, it's Rogue. Can Ah come in?"

Bobby groaned, tumbling from the bed to unlock the door. He stared at her, unsure, before curling back into the bed. "'Sup?"

Rogue closed the door behind her, casually picking at her cuticle. "Remy told me what happened."

Bobby sprang up, eyes wide in shock. He couldn't believe his ears. "He did?"

"Uh-huh. He told me everything."

"He did?"

She nodded, looking across the messy room with happy eyes, "I just wanted to say I think it's great that you two are gettin' to be such good friends."

"What?" His mouth twitched in confusion. He didn't consider LeBeau a friend. Not really even an associate. In the mind of Bobby Drake, Remy LeBeau was some punk they'd picked up for some ungodly reason and just never kicked out. Bobby liked to compare Remy to a stray cat. You feed him once, and he never leaves.

"Ah mean, what a prank y'all pulled. I ain't never seen Scott so mad. It was classic!"

"Prank?"

"Oh, sugah, you don't have to play dumb with me!" She grinned. "Remy told me all 'bout yer idea to make that assprint fer Cyke to find. And he told me how you stood guard while he did it. You two are just too funny!"

Bobby frowned. "Is that what he told you?"

"Uh-huh. You two teamed up, you'll be dangerous, I tell ya! I can just imagine all the trouble you'll be stirrin' up."

Bobby stared at his comforter. He shook his head. He didn't have the balls to tell her what really happened. Besides, he was pretty damn sure Rogue would murder the first person who crossed her path, as soon as she found out about Logan and Remy. And Bobby sure as hell wasn't gonna be the bearer of bad news. God damnit, Cajun. Why did you drag me into this mess?

"Anyhoo, Ah just wanted to thank you, Bobby."

"Thank me?"

"Uh-huh. Ah just feel real awful that poor Remy don't got so many friends. It means a lot to me that you'd take extend yer friendship to 'im." Her smile was so pure, so genuine. Bobby closed his eyes tight, shutting her joyful face from his mind. Cajun was gonna break her heart. Bobby willed the dread rising up from his belly to simmer.

"Uh, it's nothing, Rogue."

Her laugh was light and airy, and almost infectious. "Oh hell, Bobby, you know that ain't true. Remy don't open up to most folks. Fer you an' him to be friends, well, it's a huge step! This could be the start of a new era. Ah mean, if you can accept 'im, what's to say ev'ryone else can't accept 'im too!" She giggled again. "Imagine it Bobby! One day, Scott and Remy set down and have a real conversation. No cussin', no bickerin'. Just two buddies shootin' the breeze."

"Hn."

"Can't you just see the day, Bobby?"

"Sure." Not.

She didn't pick up on the sarcasm. "An' Logan'll take Remy campin' er somethin'. They could fish, maybe go hikin'. Ah bet they'd hit it off real nice."

Bobby coughed. "Uh, yeah."

She cocked her head, still smiling. "What's that now?"

Bobby forced a matching grin. "Oh, I was just thinking aloud."

"What's that, sugah?"

"Oh, um, it's just that, um..." He thought quickly. "Gambit and Wolvie are already pretty good friends."

"They are?" Her voice went up an octave.

Bobby hoped she hadn't connected the dots in her head. "Yeah, Rogue. They seem really, um, um, close."

"Really? Ah wonder why Remy never mentioned that before..." She scratched her head, bit her lip, and sighed. "Oh well. That just makes me real happy to know ol' Remy's makin' friends." Rogue beamed, waltzing toward the door. "Real nice talkin' wit' you, Bobby."

"Yeah, it was a blast." Bobby nodded, looking as innocent as he could.

She let herself out, before quickly popping her head back in the room, "Hey Bobby?"

He glanced up, startled, "Yeah?"

She looked slightly apprehensive, her eyes nervously darting about. "Uh, you think you could hook me up sometime?"

"Hook you up?"

She snickered, "You know, with a doob?"

His face paled.

She chuckled. "Ah'll take that as a yes, then. Bye, sugah!"

Bobby stared at the wooden door, daring it to open. He let himself growl, more out of frustration than anger. God fucking damnit. Why did this shit always happen to him? Why did Bobby always seem to end up as the fall guy? Why did Bobby get dragged into this fucked up love triangle? Why did that asshole Gambit tell everyone about his causal pot habit? It made no fucking sense! Why was this happening to him?

One thing was certain though. This was all LeBeau's fault. And LeBeau had some serious explaining to do.


End file.
